


Leaving Again

by GanseysBlue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 20:11:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6023137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GanseysBlue/pseuds/GanseysBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean stormed in on a Saturday night, angry and upset, and Sam wanted nothing more than to make him feel better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leaving Again

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Wincest Love Week II, Day 2 for [deanfinite](deanfinite.tumblr.com)

It was a sunny afternoon, and Sam had spent his entire day so far in the little garden outside the place they were staying at. It was Saturday, and he really just wanted to sit and read and sunbathe. Dean was a very different sort of person when it came to their preferred way to spend a weekend – he liked to meet up with all his friends from school, the kids he’d only just met but who were already mesmerised by his charm, his charisma, and his overall overpowering personality. They’d been in this town for a couple of weeks now, and neither of them really knew how much longer they had here before it was “pack your bags, we’re leaving” again. However, they both made the best of the time they had – in their different ways. Dean was always hanging out with this huge group of people, who he liked to call “the gang”, and they’d spend their days laughing and drinking and smoking – just generally wasting their days away (in Sam’s personal opinion). This isn’t to say Sam didn’t make friends wherever they went. He did, and unlike Dean he tried to keep in touch with some of them – it never worked, but it’s the thought that counts. As much as he enjoyed hanging out with his few friends at school, and sometimes even after school, he preferred his weekends alone, with a book, or with Dean – when he was around. He always told himself that this time would be different and he wouldn’t get emotionally attached to anybody in the next town they went to, and every time they left, his heart was broken into tiny pieces because he had to silently and mentally say goodbye once again to someone he had learnt to care for. It was the lack of real goodbye’s that hurt him the most. So every time they moved, he told himself to keep his heart to himself, not to make friends, only speak to those he needed to. This time wasn’t going so badly. He liked these two boys from school, they were funny and always cheerful and it felt good to be with them. After school they’d hang out and do homework, and on weekends they’d ask him if he wanted to come over and play or go to the lake – and he’d shake his head and shrug apologetically. “Sorry, guys, my dad needs me this weekend. Maybe next week.” After three weeks they’d gotten the message but never stopped asking – and Sam was grateful for that, it made his heart lighter and he hated it, because it meant he’d found two kids he liked and could have been best friends with. And so he spent his weekends alone at home, just like this Saturday.

He was so focussed on his reading that he almost didn’t hear Dean bang the front door. When he looked around, all he saw was Dean storming into their room, and slamming the door shut behind him. Sam shrugged to himself. This could be a whole lot of different things; from extreme anger to mere laziness. He folds down the corner of the page he was reading and got up from his chair. As he approached the bedroom door he could hear grunting and something that sounded very similar to a pillow being punched, repeatedly. Anger it was.

“Dean, what’s going on?”

“Go away, Sam!” Definitely anger. His voice was hoarse from the angry grunting, and possible screaming that Sam hadn’t heard. The grunting continued and Sam heard something crash against the door on the other side. Dean had been angry before, this wasn’t entirely new to Sam, but he’d never seemed this angry, he had never actually thrown anything around. Sam started to panic, he didn’t know how to react, what to do, and worst of all, though he couldn’t remember having done anything to provoke this outburst, he was instantly worried that all this was his fault.

“Dean, for fuck’s sake, open the door.”

The room on the other side of the door had suddenly gone very quiet. He couldn’t hear a single sound and the first thought that crossed his mind was that Dean had run off, disappeared and left him behind with dad, forever. It was a stupid thing to think, why would Dean randomly run away and why would he leave Sam behind? But it was the first thought that came into mind, and Sam rushed to open the door. What he found was definitely not what he had expected. There was a duffle bag lying on the floor by the door and Sam had to push it away to open the door properly. And there was Dean, curled up on his bed, with the back to Sam, his shoulders moving in quick motions that suggested he was crying. Dean Winchester was angry enough to cry. Sam wasn’t just worried about Dean, something bad had happened and his brother was feeling this terrible, but he was also afraid for himself, because anything that could make Dean cry, had the power to destroy Sam if he was affected. And anything that affected Dean automatically affected Sam.

“Dean.” Sam’s voice was a mere whisper, as soft as he could possible make it sound, and he slowly, quietly walked to the bed, and put his hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“Dean, can I make it better?” He didn’t even know what was wrong, but he needed to help and make it better. “I’ll do anything, punch whoever made you angry.” He hoped it would make Dean at least smile, because Dean Winchester was not the guy who needed someone to go punch people for him, especially not his little brother. But Dean just sighed in between his silent sobs.

“I don’t think you want to punch Dad, he’d just punch you back, like the bastard he is.”

Sam nodded to himself, he had feared that it wasn’t just some fight with one of his friends, that it was something their father had caused. He lowered himself onto the edge of the back, and pressed his body against Dean, holding on to his brother to avoid falling off the bed. He breathed him in, the scent of summer air and sweat and dirt and Dean, a perfect mixture that made his heart beat faster. With his head between his brother’s shoulder blades, he just held him for a while, until the sobbing stopped, until Dean’s breathing was calm.

“What happened?” he asked cautiously

There was a long pause, as though Dean was trying to remember what had happened, and then trying to stay calm when he remembered what it was. He took a few very deep breaths, almost pushing Sam off the bed with each of them.

“We’re leaving again. He called the shop down the road and they told me to pack our stuff when I was in there earlier. We only just got here, Sam. I’ve just made friends again, I’m just getting comfortable, and he’s making us leave again.”

Sam understood. This was how he felt every time they had to leave. He’d had so many arguments over this with their dad, and he’d lost each of them because – what could he do? And because Dean was always ready to move, was always happy to follow orders. But he knew that this outburst wasn’t because Dean was especially comfortable here, or because he liked the friends here better than he had liked all the other ones in all the other towns. He knew that Dean’s outburst had only happened because John wasn’t here to witness it, and that it could have happened in any of the previous towns because deep down this was how Dean felt. By tomorrow morning Dean would have packed up his things and would be sitting quietly in the car, waiting for them to leave while Sam would throw a tantrum – something that had practically become tradition for them.

He ran his hand down Dean’s side, and back up again, trying to show his brother that he was there and that he understood. He nodded against Dean’s back and breathed him in one more time.

“Dean, I know. But you know, we’ll be alright. We’ve been fine every other time. This won’t be any different. And tomorrow evening we’ll be in a crappy motel room, and we’ll eat crappy food, but we’ll be together, you and me, and we’ll be okay. We always are.”

He was quoting the words Dean had used to reassure him so many times. They had always made Sam feel safe, made him calm down, but he had never shown Dean how well they worked on him. Not until now. Now he wanted Dean to know how reassuring those words really were, and how true they were. This was the way their lives worked, and as much as both of them hated it, they were okay as long as they had each other.

“We’ll be okay.”

“So you won’t throw a tantrum tomorrow morning?”

Sam chuckled, he could hear the tease in Dean’s voice and was glad to hear it. It meant they were really going to be okay.

“Hell, no. I’ll tell him what I think of all this crap, I’ll make sure he knows how I feel about it. And don’t worry, I’ll add a little tantrum for you to it all.”

He could practically hear Dean smile as he wiped his nose on the sleeve of his tee-shirt. Sam pushed against him a little more, trying to get Dean to move a little further from the edge to make it more comfortable for both of them. Only reluctantly did Dean move, mainly because he liked the feeling of Sam pressed so close against him. They stayed there, curled up together for a long time, breathing together, just enjoying each other’s closeness, the feeling of each other’s bodies.

“Thanks, Sammy.” Dean eventually said.

Half asleep, Sam mumbled against his brother’s back the words they rarely used, but both knew were true. “I love you, Dee. As long as I’m with you, I’m home. We’ll be alright, I promise.”


End file.
